


Mother Mercury

by DonnieTheFu



Series: Little Freddie [1]
Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Freddie Has Kids, Comedy, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, Cute Ending, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Fatherhood, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Happy, Happy Ending, Humor, Kid Fic, Male Friendship, Parent-Child Relationship, Parenthood, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:20:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonnieTheFu/pseuds/DonnieTheFu
Summary: Prequel to Daddy FreddieFreddie and the other members of Queen spend an afternoon taking care of Freddie & Mary Austin's six-week-old son, Little Freddie...hilarity ensues
Relationships: John Deacon & Brian May & Freddie Mercury & Roger Taylor, Mary Austin/Freddie Mercury
Series: Little Freddie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1526273
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Mother Mercury

**Author's Note:**

> I would really appreciate no criticism (constructive or otherwise), or negativity in the comments section, please. This is just my hobby that I do for fun. Thank you! :)
> 
> Basically this is just a one-shot I wrote when I was bored at work. This scene is mentioned briefly in the last story in this series, No One But You, and I just wanted to flesh it out a little. (Sometimes my brain just won't stop lol)
> 
> Copyright © May 20, 2020 DonnieTheFu All Rights Reserved
> 
> ***DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any semblance between original characters and real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author in no way represents the companies, corporations, or brands mentioned in this work. The likeness of historical/famous figures have been used fictitiously; the author does not speak for or represent these people. All opinions expressed in this work are the author’s, or fictional.***

**1974 - Kensington, London, England**

"Mary, darling, wait! Don't go!" Freddie was actually on his knees, groveling. He grabbed Mary's hand.

"Freddie," she laughed.

"Please, I don't know the first thing about taking care of babies! You can't leave me on my own like this!" Freddie begged. "Listen, darling, whatever it is that you have to do, you stay here with the baby, and I'll go out and do it for you."

"Well, it's my six week health check with the gynaecologist after giving birth to the baby," she told him. "Are you going to go to the surgery and have the examination for me, then?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh," Freddie replied, dropping her hand in surprise. "No, thank you." Then he grabbed her hand again, desperate. "Listen, darling, you must just call them and-and reschedule!"

"I can't reschedule again! This is the third time!" she told him. "‘Look, Freddie, you’ll be fine. Besides, it'll only be for a couple of hours."

"But...But…"

Mary bent down and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I'll see you in a little while," she told him, and then walked out of the flat, closing the door behind her. As if on cue, as soon as Mary had gone, the baby started crying. Freddie rushed over to the Moses basket (bassinet).

"Shit!" he swore, then: "No, I'm sorry, I didn't say that." He picked up his and Mary's son, Little Freddie, and held him close to his chest. "There, there. Don't cry, darling. Daddy's here. Daddy's got you." But the baby just kept on crying. "Oh, bollocks!" he swore again, then went over to the telephone to ring Brian.

"Oh, Brian, darling! Help me, please!" Freddie cried when Brian picked up the line. Brian immediately got to his feet.

"What is it Freddie? What's happened?"

"It's absolutely dreadful. Mary's gone to the doctor's and left me here all alone with the baby, and I haven't the faintest idea what I'm doing. He won't stop crying and...and…"

"Listen, Freddie, don't panic," Brian told him. "Just stay calm and I'll be there as soon as I can, alright?"

"Alright, darling, but hurry!"

Brian rang off, then phoned Roger and John to see if they wouldn't mind coming over to Freddie's house and helping out as well.

"Oh my God! Freddie trying to take care of a baby all by himself? Well, this ought to be right hilarious!" Roger crowed.

"I don't think we're meant to make fun of him, Roger. I think we're meant to help him," Brian said.

"Either way, mate, I'll be there," Roger said, then rang off.

"I mean, it's one little baby, and we're four very intelligent, college-educated, grown up men," Brian said when he phoned John. "What could possibly go wrong?"

*******

When they arrived, Freddie opened the door, the baby in his arms, and let them into the flat. Little Freddie was crying so hard now that his whole face had turned red.

"I think he's broken," Freddie said.

"Don't be silly, Freddie. Babies don't break," Brian told him. Then he bent down towards the baby.

"Is Little Freddie hungry, huh? Is that what it is?" he asked in a sweet, sing-song voice.

"Well, I am feeling a bit peckish..." Freddie said, placing a hand on his stomach. Brian straightened.

"Not you, Freddie! I was talking to the baby," Brian said.

"Oh."

"When was the last time he ate?"

"I don't know. A couple of hours ago?"

"Well, there you are then, Freddie!" Brian said with a smile. "He's probably just hungry!"

"Right. Roger, would you mind bringing me a glass of milk from the kitchen?" Freddie asked.

"Sure, mate." So Roger went into the kitchen and fetched a glass of milk, thinking Freddie was planning on pouring it into a bottle for the baby or something.

"Oh, thank you, darling. I was feeling quite parched," Freddie said, taking the glass from Roger and drinking the milk right down.

"Hey! That was supposed to be for the baby!" Roger shouted.

"Don't be ridiculous, darling. Babies can't drink milk. They have to drink formula. Hut. Even I know that," Freddie said, clearly pleased with himself for knowing that little fact.

"Alright, where's his formula, then?" Brian asked.

"It's just here in the kitchen," Freddie said, unceremoniously handing the baby off to Roger, before leading the way. He opened one of the cupboard doors and took down a tin of baby formula. Then Freddie grabbed a clean bottle from the dish drainer.

"First, you take a bottle, and fill it with water from the tap," Freddie demonstrated to Brian. He pulled the top off of the tin of formula. "Then, you take this little scoop here. See? And you take a scoop of the formula and put it in along with the water in the bottle. Then, you put on a nipple and shake it up like this."

"Excellent job, Freddie!" Brian beamed at him encouragingly.

"I've watched Mary do this a thousand times. I'm not _completely_ helpless," Freddie smiled.

"Of course not!" Brian told him. "Now, all you've got to do is heat it up."

"H-heat it up?" Freddie asked.

"Well, yes. Babies love a nice warm bottle," Brian said.

"In the microwave?" Freddie asked, a bit nervously. He never could figure out how to use the damn thing.

"No, no, not in the microwave. You've got to do it on top of the cooker (stove)."

The cooker was even more terrifying than the microwave. Freddie just stood there staring in horror. He imagined the thing smirking and laughing at him evilly, smoke billowing out of its red hot mouth, like flames from the pits of hell. He turned to Brian.

"Are you sure he can't just drink it straight? I mean, cold."

"There's no reason to be scared, Freddie," Brian told him with a laugh. "Here, I'll help you." He began rummaging around in the cupboards. "Where does Mary keep her pots and pans?" Freddie showed him, then Brian took a small saucepan and handed it to Freddie.

"Here, fill this with warm water from the tap." So, Freddie did as he was bid. "Now, set it down on top of the cooker." Freddie crept over to the cooker, then set the saucepan down quickly and leapt back, as if the thing might bite him. Brian stood there looking expectantly at Freddie. "Then you turn on the flame…"

"Ok, ok, Brian! Don't rush me!" Freddie reached over cautiously, and then turned the flame all the way up.

"Jesus, Freddie! Not that high!" Brian turned the flame down. "Now, we just wait a bit." In a little while, Brian turned off the flame. "That should be long enough. Don't want it to get too hot." He took the bottle and placed it carefully in the heated water. "We'll just pop this in here for a few minutes." After the bottle had time to heat sufficiently, Brian removed it from the water, and dried it off with a dish towel. "Now, we'll just test the temperature." He sprinkled a couple of drops of formula on the inside of his wrist. "Here, now you try it." Freddie imitated what he'd seen Brian do. "See? It's the perfect temperature. Not too hot. Not too cold." They went back into the sitting room and all four of them sat down on the sofa together. Freddie took the baby in his arms and fed him his bottle.

"Oh, it's quite nice, this," he smiled at the others. Little Freddie drank hungrily and had soon finished his bottle. "Well, now what?" Freddie asked.

"Now, you burp him. Uh, right, Brian?" Roger asked, looking over at Brian.

"Yeah, that's right," Brian affirmed, handing Roger a dish towel. Roger draped the dish towel over Freddie's shoulder, and then helped him position the baby accordingly. 

"Now, just pat him on the back, Freddie," Roger said. Freddie patted the baby on the back ever so gently. "A little bit harder than that, Freddie," Roger told him. So this time, Freddie really reared his hand back.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" The others all clamored at once, stopping him just in time.

"Not like that, mate. You'll take his head off. Here, let me show you," Roger said, taking the baby from him. He patted the baby gently, but firmly on the back until he let out a loud belch. Then he held him out at arm's length to smile and talk and play with him. But suddenly, the baby began making a strange grunting, straining noise, going completely red in the face.

"Aah! What's he doing?" Freddie screeched. Just then an audible squelching sound came out from down below. "Roger? What did you do?" Freddie asked, mock accusingly.

"Er, Freddie, I think he might need his nappy changed," John pointed out.

"Right," Freddie said, then realized everyone was looking at him. "Surely you don't expect me to…"

"Well, you are the Daddy after all," Brian told him.

"No, no, I can't! I'm too squeamish! I'll be sick!" Freddie protested, but everyone just kept staring at him, waiting. So, reluctantly, Freddie took the baby from Roger and brought him over and laid him down on the changing table near the Moses Basket. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose and then undid the poppers on the baby grow (onesie). But he began gagging before he'd ever got the first tab of the nappy unfastened.

"Oh, honestly, Freddie!" Brian came over and took charge. "It's just a little wee and a little poo. How bad could it possibly be?" But after he'd got the tabs on the nappy unfastened, he discovered it was far worse than he had ever imagined. "Oh. Oh, dear," he said, looking away.

"Oh, that's quite a big number, there," Freddie said, gagging again, a hand held to his mouth. Brian cleaned Little Freddie up as best as he could with the baby wipes, but it was decided more than just a nappy change was needed. A bath would be required as well. Brian folded and rolled up the dirty nappy into a ball.

"Would you mind throwing that in the bin for me, please?" he asked Freddie. Freddie froze. He looked around for a moment, and then spotted a pair of drumsticks Roger had left lying around the flat from a previous visit.

"Roger, could I borrow those drumsticks for a moment?" he asked casually. Luckily, Roger wasn't paying much attention.

"Sure. Here you are, mate," he said, handing them over. Freddie took the drumsticks and carefully, using them like a pair of chopsticks, he picked up the dirty nappy and dropped it in the bin.

"Hey! You owe me a new pair!" Roger shouted, jabbing a finger at Freddie. 

Then they all began preparing for their next adventure, giving the baby his bath. Brian stayed with the baby; Freddie went to retrieve everything they needed for the bath - a flannel (washcloth), baby shampoo, and baby soap; John covered the kitchen table in bath towels and filled the baby bath with warm water, making sure it was just the right temperature; and Roger got together everything they would need for after the bath - baby lotion, baby powder, a clean nappy, and a fresh pair of jim-jams (pajamas). The bath itself turned out to be quite an _interesting_ affair:

Little Freddie: Crying and wailing at the top of his lungs

Roger (covering an eye with his hand): Ow! Watch it, Freddie! You got soap in my eye!

Freddie: I'm trying! I'm trying! But he won't stop squirming!

Brian: Be sure and wash behind his ears, Freddie.

John (standing back and watching in horror):.....silence (crickets chirping).....

Luckily, there was no loss of life or limb during the event, and no one was injured (at least not seriously). Afterwards, they formed a sort of assembly line: Freddie got the baby out of the bath and handed him to Roger; Roger dried the baby off and styled his hair into a baby mohawk for his own amusement; then he was given to John who massaged and lotioned him down; and lastly, he came to Brian, who was to put on the nappy and jim-jams. But Freddie decided he wanted to do that part as well, just to prove that he was indeed capable of changing a nappy, if only it hadn't been a messy one. Brian thought putting on a baby's nappy should have been a pretty easy and straightforward task, but he should have known better, and he watched as Freddie struggled and completely bungled the entire thing, wrapping up the baby's lower regions like a Christmas present.

"What the hell, Freddie?" Brian said, staring down at the disaster before his eyes. Freddie gasped, covering Little Freddie's ears with his hands.

"Brian! No swearing in front of the baby!"

"Freddie, every other word out of your mouth is-" (Freddie gasped again) "-the _f word_ ," Brian finished with a hiss. "So are you seriously going to get onto me for saying H-E-double-hockey-sticks?" Freddie said nothing, merely looked cowed. Brian sorted out the nappy. "Give me a little bit of that powder," he said. Freddie of course began sprinkling on copious amounts of the baby powder. "No, Freddie, stop. That's enough," Brian told him.

"No, it's not! Stop! Let go! Here, let me just-"

"No, Freddie! STOP! STOP! That's too much!" A brief scuffle for the bottle ensued, which ended with both Brian's and Freddie's faces and hair covered in baby powder. Brian blew his breath out and wiped his eyes.

"Freddie, I am going to literally kill you!" he said.

"Wait, wait, Brian!" Freddie cried, cowering down. "Let's not do anything too hasty here. Surely, you wouldn't leave Little Freddie orphaned without a father, and the band without a lead singer, now would you?" Brian thought about it a moment, then decided against it.

"You're lucky," he said, pointing his finger at Freddie…

"Hmmm, I think he's getting a bit sleepy now," Freddie said, after he and Brian had gotten cleaned up, and everything from the baby's bath had been tidied away.

"Well, I don't blame him," Brian said. "I'm completely knackered."

"I know!" Freddie said, clapping his hands together. "We shall perform him a song, then he'll go right to sleep. I know it."

"But, we haven't any instruments," Roger put in.

"Don't be silly, darling. Of course there are instruments." Freddie disappeared into another room, then returned shortly with the _instruments_ \- children's instruments, like those made for a baby or small child. There was a tiny piano, with eight brightly colored keys; a little drum with a single drumstick attached at the side with a length of cord; and two small children's guitars, each with three strings. Freddie also produced a pretend, battery-powered children's microphone, and a plastic tambourine made for babies to rattle and play with.

"Er, Freddie, isn't he a little young to play with those?" John asked.

"Oh, no. It's never too soon to start his musical education, dear," Freddie said. 

"Freddie, you can't be serious. You don't actually expect us to play these. They're children's play things!" Brian objected.

"Oh, I'm very serious, darling. Dead serious," Freddie answered him. He went over and propped Little Freddie up on the sofa so that he was sitting up and looking at them. Then he took the microphone in one hand, and the tambourine in the other, and stood out front.

"Hello, London! Thank you for coming! How's everyone doing?" Little Freddie just sat there staring back. "We'd like to perform a song for you now. It's called _Keep Yourself Alive_." Freddie shook the tambourine. Then the band launched into the song, trying to work out the rhythm as best they could with the instruments at hand. Freddie sang:

_I was told a million times_   
_Of all the troubles in my way_   
_Mind you grow a little wiser_   
_Little better every day_   
_But if I crossed a million rivers_   
_And I rode a million miles_   
_Then I'd still be where I started_   
_Bread and butter for a smile_   
_Well I sold a million mirrors_   
_In a shopping alley way_   
_But I never saw my face_   
_In any window any day_   
_Now they say your folks are telling you_   
_Be a super star_   
_But I tell you just be satisfied_   
_Stay right where you are_

_Keep yourself alive, yeah_  
 _Keep yourself alive_  
 _All you people keep yourself alive.._.

They looked over at the sofa to see how the "audience" had liked it. Little Freddie slowly slid sideways and fell over.

"Tough crowd, tonight," Freddie commented. He went over and righted Little Freddie, then took his place back out front. "We'll try another song. Perhaps, you'll like this one better. It's called _Killer Queen_." Freddie got on his knees to play the little piano that was set on the sitting room table, and then he sang:

_She keeps her Moet et Chandon_   
_In her pretty cabinet_   
_"Let them eat cake," she says_   
_Just like Marie Antoinette_   
_A built-in remedy_   
_For Khrushchev and Kennedy_   
_At anytime an invitation_   
_You can't decline_

_Caviar and cigarettes_   
_Well versed in etiquette_   
_Extraordinarily nice_

_She's a Killer Queen_   
_Gunpowder, gelatine_   
_Dynamite with a laser beam_   
_Guaranteed to blow your mind_   
_Anytime_

_Recommended at the price_   
_Insatiable an appetite_   
_Wanna try?..._

This time when they looked over, Little Freddie started crying.

"Not a Queen fan, I take it," Freddie quipped.

"Maybe we should try playing him a lullaby," John suggested.

"Excellent idea, darling!" Freddie declared. "Like what?"

"How about Rock-a-bye Baby?" They all agreed that sounded like a good idea, and began playing a hard rock n' roll version of the song while Freddie sang:

_Rock-a-bye baby_   
_on the tree top._   
_When the wind blows_   
_the cradle will rock!_

Roger broke out into a drum solo then, and Brian really tried to play that guitar.

"Yeah! Alright! Give to me! I like it!" Freddie shouted. Then he finished up the song:

_When the bough breaks,_   
_the cradle will fall._   
_And down will come Baby,_   
_Cradle and all!!!_

Little Freddie was really crying now.

"Oh, it didn't work!" Freddie exclaimed, disappointed.

"Perhaps, we should try something a bit softer…" Brian said. They all left their instruments, except for Brian who brought his guitar along, and came over and sat down on the sofa. Freddie took the baby in his arms, and pressed him up against his chest, rubbing his back soothingly. Brian began playing and sang ever so gently:

 _Go to sleep_  
 _Go to sleep_  
 _Go to sleep, Little Freddie.._.

Freddie's eyes began to get very heavy then…

_Close your eyes_   
_Say good night..._

*******

When Mary came home, she found all of them passed out on the sofa, asleep. Brian had the guitar cradled in his arms, and Freddie still had the baby pressed up against his chest, and the two of them were sleeping away. It really was the funniest, and the most precious thing she'd ever seen in her entire life, and she would treasure the memory forever...

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all the kind comments, kudos, and support. It means a lot to me and I really appreciate it. I hope you've enjoyed it. :)
> 
> I would really appreciate no criticism (constructive or otherwise), or negativity in the comments section, please. This is just my hobby that I do for fun. Thank you! :)
> 
> Copyright © May 20, 2020 DonnieTheFu All Rights Reserved
> 
> ***DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Any semblance between original characters and real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author in no way represents the companies, corporations, or brands mentioned in this work. The likeness of historical/famous figures have been used fictitiously; the author does not speak for or represent these people. All opinions expressed in this work are the author’s, or fictional.***


End file.
